But it was like a dance across a field strewn with razors, and I bled with every step I took.

Beyond, the unknown lay before us once more, and another impossible task. The four of us emerged from the earth and turned our steps west, toward the last hope for Salvation.

Because I love you.' It was easy to say it this time now that I understood what it meant. Then I quoted his own words back to him. 'Not just when it's easy. All the time.

He's never going to sit at my feet and write me poems, which is good because I hate poetry, except dirty ones that rhyme.

My skill didn't lie in planning battles, only in fighting them.

What was the good of having such a fine home if you weren't willing to fight for it?

The whole world is like Whitewall's razors I burst out. It cuts us, and we bleed but there's no purpose to it.